


Sky and Steel Under Glass

by Nalanzu



Category: Tokusou Sentai Dekaranger
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant (Mostly), Dysfunctional Relationships, M/M, Medical Trauma, Melodrama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalanzu/pseuds/Nalanzu
Summary: When things go wrong, they go spectacularly wrong; Hoji tries and fails to pick up the pieces.





	Sky and Steel Under Glass

**Author's Note:**

> Haha, 2005.

“Be careful. Kresaor may not be physically strong, but he is devious.” Doggie looked around at the six serious faces of the officers around him and nodded once. “Good luck.” 

“Roger!” The six saluted simultaneously before exiting the room. 

Doggie returned to his desk, taking up the task of running the Earth’s Special Police Force even as he kept one watchful eye on the monitor in case his intervention was needed. He didn’t think it would be; after all, he had handpicked five of the six, and the last had been especially trained by an elite organization since childhood. Still, complacence led to trouble. 

“How are they?” Swan had entered the room without his noticing, and her graceful gesture towards the viewscreen nearly caught him by surprise. 

“They’ll be fine.” 

Swan moved to stand beside him, arms folded. Her expression, normally serene, was worried. 

“Is something wrong?” Doggie asked. He couldn’t quite concentrate, not with the nearly palpable aura of unease she displayed. 

“No,” she replied lightly, and smiled. The aura faded, but he could still sense it. 

The viewscreen flashed – the SPD had arrived on the scene, and the alienizer in question had begun its resistance. 

“Vasa-seijin Kresoar, you’re under arrest for-” Hoji started. Kresoar lashed out before he had the chance to finish, liquid snakes flickering through the air. The six Dekas dodged, rolling to the side or simply springing over the top of the attack. Where the snakes’ tongues hit the ground, craters burgeoned and spat out chunks of solid rock. 

Sen glanced at Hoji, and nodded. “SWAT Mode!” five voices called out simultaneously. Black uniforms were replaced by shining battle-suits, replaced again by black armor adding a second layer of protection. Off to the side, Tetsu charged forward. Without SWAT Mode, his transformation took less time. He used the few seconds to cover his teammates, attacking before the alienizer recovered. 

The snakes shot out again, but he was ready for them. Tetsu leapt over the snakes and came down hard towards the Vasa-seijin’s torso. The snakes reversed direction and wrapped themselves around him, throwing him painfully to the ground. They clung tightly for a moment, until he pulled away and dashed forward again. This time, his attack connected and he dealt the alienizer a double blow just beneath its solar plexus. 

“Ha!” Ban flipped forward, followed by the other four. Their rifles made a distinct dent in the creature’s defenses; the snakes retreated, swallowed up once again in the alienizer’s luminous body. 

Tetsu, directly behind Umeko and Jasmine’s double attack, revved up the handle on his left glove. “Lightning fist!” The multiple blows sent Kresoar crashing backwards into a parked car, and shattered glass sprayed the battleground. Inexplicably, Kresoar climbed to its feet and laughed. 

Tetsu straightened slightly and cocked his head to the side, confused. _What?_ He glanced at his teammates, at Hoji, just in case Kresoar had set some kind of trap. The six snakes that darted towards them caught him completely unawares. He tried to roll to the side, but the snake anticipated his movements and struck him directly in the chest. Heavy jaws closed around his ribs and squeezed. He went down hard, but almost before he realized what had happened, the snake slithered away. Ban and the others had neutralized the alienizer and called judgment. Tetsu climbed to his feet to stand next to Umeko, struggling to catch his breath. 

“Delete approved,” Hoji noted impersonally. 

“Murphy! Keybone!” Ban tossed the key into the air, and Murphy sprang up to retrieve it. Almost instantaneously, the robotic dog shifted into a formidable weapon. Ban caught it as it came down, and the other four supported him. The twin burst of energy caught Kresoar just as he tried a last desperate charge. Ban swung Murphy upwards in the orange light of the explosion, and the team turned its back on the blast. 

Murphy dashed off as soon as the keybone was removed, presumably back to the base. “Aaaah, mission accomplished,” Ban announced, keying the reverse transformation. The others followed suit. 

“Bath time!” Umeko declared happily, skipping forward. 

“Guys…” Tetsu’s voice came from behind them. “Sorry.” 

“What are you talking about?” Ban grinned. “You were…” He turned, along with the others, just in time to see Tetsu stumble and fall. “Tetsu!” He was on his knees beside the other man in seconds. “Tetsu!” 

Jasmine was the only one with the presence of mind to call for a medical team; Umeko had joined Ban, neither of them knowing what to do. Hoji shouldered them both aside, trying and failing to stem the too-red stain spreading rapidly across Tetsu’s chest. Sen stared, frozen for several seconds before joining Hoji. 

“Sorry,” Tetsu muttered again through clenched teeth. 

“Shut up,” Hoji said harshly. “Don’t apologize.” The deep lacerations were bleeding far too much, and Tetsu was already going into shock. 

__

_Beginning:_

“Sempai?” 

“I’m not Ban. Don’t call me that.” Hoji finished cleaning his pistol and started assembling it again. He was the only member of the Deka team to practice with a gun that fired solid bullets. 

“Sorry.” Tetsu backed off slightly, but didn’t leave. He watched the reassembly of the outmoded weapon with an odd intensity. 

“What is it?” Hoji asked after a moment. 

“Why do you use that?” Tetsu sidled farther into the room, until he was standing directly behind Hoji. 

“It’s best to be prepared.” Hoji snapped the last piece into place and made sure the safety was on. “There are alienizers with the ability to neutralize energy weapons. Even Ban’s Hybrid Magnum,” he added as an afterthought. 

Tetsu nodded. “Argas-seijin and Echidnites are the most dangerous in that category.” 

“Why are you asking questions to which you already know the answer?” Hoji frowned, irritated. 

“I…” Tetsu fiddled with the hem of his shirt. “That was something they taught us at the tokukyou. I wasn’t expecting to see…” he trailed off, flushing slightly. 

Hoji glanced around and almost smiled at the other man’s expression. “You weren’t expecting to see someone who wasn’t _elite_ with the same habits, right?” 

If anything, Tetsu’s blush deepened. “I… have to go,” he muttered, and fled. 

Hoji watched him leave, confused at having read him incorrectly, and then turned back to his cleanup. In that moment, he had already forgotten the brief incident. Later on, it was always what he thought of when he remembered the beginning. 

__

_Lifeline_

“Sorry,” Tetsu whispered again, eyes beginning to glaze over. “Sempai…” 

Hoji nearly recoiled at that one word. Even now, Tetsu called for Ban. “Jasmine!” he called over his shoulder. “How long?” 

“I don’t know!” Jasmine shook her head. “Soon!” 

“Not good enough,” Hoji snapped, burying his flash of hurt. A strangled cough grabbed his attention, and he turned back. Blood dotted Tetsu’s pale lips, and he was trying to breathe far too quickly. _His lungs are damaged_. “Ban!” 

Ban was at his side almost before Hoji finished saying the name. “Partner?” 

“Take off your jacket, and put your hands here. Sen, I need you here.” Hoji spoke rapidly, gesturing towards his own hands. “Umeko, get his feet off the ground. Carefully!” Ban’s hands replaced his as Umeko hurried forward. Hoji shrugged out of his own jacket, shivering in the chill bite of the wind, and spread them both over Tetsu. “Stay with me, Tetsu.” 

Whatever Tetsu tried to say was interrupted by a fresh spate of coughing. Sen and Ban exchanged glances, both shifting underneath the jackets. 

Hoji reached out, caught Tetsu’s face between his hands. “Calm down. Breathe.” Tetsu latched onto his gaze like a lifeline, and his breathing began to slow. “Good, that’s good.” Hoji couldn’t glance away, not with Tetsu looking at him like that. “Jasmine. I need to know _now_.” 

“A – a few minutes, not more.” Jasmine was right behind him, much closer than she had been before. 

“I’m…” Tetsu gasped, again unable to speak. 

“I told you not to apologize!” Hoji smoothed Tetsu’s hair out of his eyes, leaving crimson streaks across his skin. “You’re going to be fine.” 

“Nonsense,” Tetsu forced out with a distorted parody of his usual half-smile. A brief tremor ran through him, and when it was over, he lay still. 

“Tetsu!” 

__

_Distraction_

Hoji leaned towards the screen, as if coming closer to it would make the frustratingly blurry mass of pixels resolve into something recognizable. All it was doing was giving him a headache. He rubbed his eyes and sat back, trying to remember where he might have seen it before. 

He was so deep in his thoughts – so close to that moment of realization – that he didn’t notice the footsteps behind him. His first warning that someone else had entered the room was a pair of warm hands gripping his shoulders. Hoji reacted without thinking, sliding forward in the chair and pulling his assailant over his shoulder to impact with the ground. 

“Ow, sempai,” Tetsu complained, staring up at him with a face full of wounded pride and indignation. “That hurt.” 

“Didn’t I tell you not to call me that?” Hoji crouched next to Tetsu. “What are you doing in here, anyway?” 

Tetsu shrugged from the floor. “Wondering why the light was on so late.” He wriggled sideways and propped himself up on one elbow. “You work very hard, sempai.” 

Hoji let the honorific slide the second time around. Ban had taught him that the more he argued, the more the title would be used. Tetsu, it seemed, was becoming more like Ban every day. “Not that hard,” he said instead, and rose smoothly to his feet. It was time to stop anyway; Tetsu’s interruption had blown any chance he might have had at identifying the fuzzy, half-obscured symbol. 

“Sure you do!” Tetsu was standing in front of him bare seconds later, a movement that should have been awkward and was instead incredibly graceful. He reached around Hoji and rested his hands on Hoji’s shoulders again. “You’re very tense. I can tell.” 

Hoji bit back the retort that he was tense because his work had been interrupted. Tetsu’s fingers were moving ever so slightly, and it felt wonderful. “Uh huh,” he muttered, since it seemed like Tetsu was waiting for some sort of reply. 

Tetsu chuckled and applied more gentle pressure. He was closer now, almost enough for Hoji to touch him simply by shifting his weight forward. His warm breath stirred over Hoji’s cheek, and Hoji involuntarily tilted his face upwards. The barest sensation of pressure skimmed his lips… 

…and the door slid open. Tetsu’s presence vanished. Hoji opened his eyes abruptly – when had he closed them? – and experienced a wave of vertigo. 

“Hey, partner!” Ban bounded across the room and put a steadying hand on his shoulder. “I thought you were still here.” He grinned across the room. “Tetsu’s thought,” he amended. “Looks like I got here just in time to save you!” 

“Don’t call me partner,” Hoji retorted automatically, stepping away from Ban. “Save me from what?” he added, narrowing his eyes. 

“Yourself,” Ban declared brightly. “You needed a break or something.” His face was completely open and guileless. If he’d seen something when he’d walked in the room, he had suddenly developed the ability to hide his reactions. Hoji would have bet on one of Umeko’s shots making it into bull’s-eye before he’d entertain the notion that Ban’s heart wasn’t completely on his sleeve. 

“Right, right,” Tetsu joined in, walking back towards them. “You shouldn’t push yourself so hard, sempai.” Tetsu, Hoji thought, had a distinctly guilty cast to his features. Or perhaps it was just his imagination. 

Hoji rolled his eyes. “I’m finished for this evening, and not because of you. Either of you. And don’t call me that.” He stalked past both of them, trying not to let his confusion show. What the hell did Tetsu think he was doing? And why was he, Hoji, letting him? The last thing he needed or wanted was a distraction. The last person he’d been so close to had been Vino, and he should have learned his lesson there. 

__

_Return_

“He’s got a pulse.” Sen’s voice cut through the panicked babble of Hoji’s thoughts. He pressed two blood-slick fingers to the hollow at the base of Tetsu’s jaw. There was a rhythm, thready and weak. A faint relief spread through him. 

“Wake up, Tetsu.” Jasmine, white shirt incongruous against the rest of her uniform, knelt opposite Hoji. She slapped Tetsu lightly across the cheek. “Open your eyes.” Tetsu groaned, but that was his only response. 

Tires crunched on the pavement next to them, the sirens noticeable only when they were suddenly cut off. Jasmine answered the dispatch team’s questions calmly, but Hoji wasn’t quite listening to that either. The paramedics gently but efficiently moved Tetsu’s teammates aside, taking over. 

“We should follow them back,” Jasmine said softly, standing very close to Hoji. She’d gotten her jacket back, and it was draped loosely across her shoulders. “They won’t let any of us ride with him.” 

Hoji looked up, surprised, and noticed Ban arguing with one of the paramedics. “Ban!” Hoji snapped. “Get in your car and report back to the DekaBase!” 

Ban left the paramedic alone and drew his fist across his chest in a sullen salute. “Roger.” 

Hoji caught him by the elbow and pulled him away from the ambulance. “He’s going to be fine. Come on.” The words tasted like ashes in his mouth. Ban seemed to take some comfort from the now twice-told lie, though. He nodded and made his way to the Machine Doberman with Jasmine in tow. Hoji glanced around to ask Sen to take care of Tetsu’s vehicle before remembering that Tetsu had uncharacteristically caught a ride in the Machine Bull. 

He had to try twice to fit his SP License into the Machine Husky’s ignition slot. His hands were shaking, and he clenched his fists to make them stop. They didn’t. 

“Hey, partner.” 

“What?” For the second time that day, Hoji didn’t even notice Ban using the word ‘partner’. 

“Ride with Jasmine.” Ban’s expression was quietly sympathetic. 

Myriad responses flashed through Hoji; irritation, outright anger, indignation, relief, the urge to cry, a sudden desire to tell Ban what was really going on. In the end, he simply nodded and climbed off the bike. It meant he didn’t have to think, and for once in his life, he didn’t want to. 

__

_Confrontation_

“Point 407, check arrival, sensor net operational.” Hoji spoke tersely, watching Tetsu out of the corner of his eye. “Commence operation.” They were stationed at the only entrance to an underground laboratory containing sensitive compounds. Recent intelligence had suggested that it was likely to come under attack. Given that the alienizers rumored to be the possible perpetrators were wanted in over twenty systems, Doggie had set two of them on guard duty and sent the rest out actively searching. 

The minutes ticked slowly by, and rather than monitoring the passive sensors they had distributed, Hoji found himself mulling over recent events. Tetsu had cornered him twice more following the first incident, each time succeeding at completely blindsiding him. And yet, on neither occasion did Tetsu actually follow through on his initial actions. The first time, Ban had skidded into the room while running from Umeko. The second time Tetsu had actually accosted him in a hallway, and Hoji had no idea how Tetsu moved away from him quickly enough to avoid being seen. 

At that point, Hoji had decided that enough was enough. He’d turned to demand some sort of explanation only to find that Tetsu had vanished. At the time, Hoji had thought nothing of it. Later, however, Hoji had finally come to the conclusion that Tetsu was avoiding him. Each of his attempts to catch Tetsu alone had failed, no matter where he tried. 

He had briefly wondered if he should speak to Doggie about it; a personal strain between himself and Tetsu could endanger the team. But since Tetsu acted almost completely normal as long as one of the others was around, Hoji wasn’t quite sure exactly what he should say. Nor could he think of how the situation might be resolved. 

Before Hoji could come to a decision, the situation with the laboratory had come up. It wouldn’t have made much of a difference except that Ban, who had originally been slated as Tetsu’s partner, came down with a rather nasty case of the flu. Doggie had given Hoji an unreadable look before telling him that he was now on guard duty. Tetsu’s eyes had widened at that announcement, but he hadn’t said anything. He had given Hoji little sidelong glances during the mission briefing that, in Hoji’s opinion, indicated that Tetsu wasn’t paying attention at all. 

“Sempai,” Tetsu hissed. 

“What?” Hoji whispered back, annoyed at Tetsu for dragging him out of his thoughts and further annoyed at himself for his lack of attention. 

“Point four-beta is showing activity.” 

Point four-beta was quiescent when Hoji looked at it. Just to be on the safe side, he checked the surrounding areas as well, but there was no sign of motion. The area in question was near the huge vents necessary for air to reach the laboratory. Hoji would have been more comfortable if the entrances to the vents themselves had been manned, but there were simply too many. “It’s fine now,” he said. 

“I should go check.” Tetsu made a move as if to get up. Hoji grabbed the other man’s wrist without thinking about it, suddenly convinced that Tetsu had seen no such thing and was trying to avoid him yet again. 

“Tetsu.” 

Tetsu looked down at Hoji’s hand with surprise, but there was something resigned about his expression. “What’s wrong?” 

“We can’t do this, Tetsu.” Initially, Hoji had thought that he was primarily concerned with the reason behind Tetsu’s apparent attempt to play some sort of game. After all, any problems Tetsu might be having could very well have an adverse effect on the team. But now that he had finally gotten the chance to confront the other man, he was unsettled to realize that it was just as important to him to know why Tetsu had chosen _him_. Why Tetsu had involved Hoji, of all people, in his teenage crisis. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but it needs to stop. We can’t afford to be distracted.” 

Tetsu’s answer surprised him. He had been prepared for dissembling, wounded innocence, anger, even honest confusion. He had not expected Tetsu to bow his head, and offer a quiet “I know.” 

Hoji blinked. “Then why are you…” he asked after a pause. 

“I’m sorry,” Tetsu said. And fell silent. 

Hoji tried again. “Tetsu, if there’s something wrong, I need you to tell me.” 

A simple headshake was the only answer he got, and Hoji gave up. For Ban to talk to Tetsu and set him straight was a possibility, and one he was considering. But that would mean that he needed more to go on than some admittedly odd flirting and a gut instinct. Ban wouldn’t take the situation seriously until it was clear that something was wrong, and by then it could be too late. More importantly, on some level it had become necessary for Hoji himself to understand. Tetsu had approached _him_ , not Ban, and that stood for something. 

“Hoji-sempai, point four-beta!” Tetsu scrambled to his feet and flipped open his SP License to warn the others. Without pausing, he took off running towards the indicated point, where the alienizer duo they had been warned against was starting its attack. Hoji had just a moment to appreciate that Tetsu hadn’t been lying before the battle was joined. 

__

_Wall_

The blood still covering Hoji’s hands had dried nearly to black by the time they reached the DekaBase. It webbed the cracks in his skin, tugging like a pair of too-tight gloves. It was what he was most conscious of during the trip. 

Doggie came out to meet them; they couldn’t follow the ambulance into the medical wing, no matter how much Hoji might have wanted to. “What happened?” he asked as soon as they set foot on the ground. 

Ban gave the report on the way to the infirmary, fidgeting with Hoji’s helmet in his hands. He concentrated on the details; Doggie already knew the basics. Without a reason to stay behind, the girls had run ahead. Sen had followed with an apologetic glance. Hoji almost didn’t want to arrive; the possibility that Tetsu hadn’t made it loomed ahead of him almost like a physical thing. 

“Partner?” Ban had turned around without his noticing, and was all but waving a hand in front of his face. 

“What?” 

Ban paused without speaking, and then shook his head. “It’s nothing.” The other three were waiting a short distance away. The door to the infirmary stood open, but none of them had gone through. Sen held a comforting arm around Umeko’s shoulders. 

“Hoji.” Doggie’s voice should have made him jump; he hadn’t been aware that the other was standing so close. 

“Yes, Boss?” 

There was paperwork to do. An official report had to be written and sent to the tokukyou, explaining why their officer had been injured. Hoji should have been the one to write it, but a dull sort of numbness had settled over him. When Doggie held out the clipboard, he couldn’t bring himself to move his hands. 

Jasmine reached over him with a murmured apology and took the papers before following the others through the doors. They had now reached the infirmary, and there was nothing to do but wait. 

__

_Collapse_

After the lab had been secured, Umeko wanted to tell Ban that the alienizer duo had been defeated. She also wanted everyone to go with her. Tetsu didn’t take much convincing, and Sen was good-natured enough to go along with Umeko as well. Jasmine and Hoji exchanged glances and sighed. Umeko was perfectly capable of filling the noise gap that their loudest teammate had left. Besides, Ban was probably miserable and might welcome a distraction. Hoji knew how single-minded the medical staff tended to be, after all. 

Hoji had forgotten that Ban was more than a match for the nurses. He could hear the racket from down the hall, even though individual words were unclear. He muttered an imprecation under his breath and jogged the last few steps to Ban’s temporary room. 

Synchronicity put Hoji in front of the door just in time to catch Ban as he bolted out. Two nurses and an intern scrambled past the bed – which Ban had apparently been dodging around – with harried thanks. 

“No!” Ban shouted. Hoji had a very good idea what the other man was yelling about, not that he cared. He had enough to worry about without Ban’s needle phobia depriving him of yet another team member. He therefore firmly shoved Ban back into the room despite Ban’s entreating cry of “Partner!” 

“Don’t call me that.” Hoji crossed his arms. “What do you think you’re _doing_?” 

“I’m terribly sorry about this, sir.” The intern apologized. “I don’t know –” 

“You’re not sticking that in me! No way!” Ban evaded the nurses yet again, this time using Hoji as a shield. As expected, Hoji saw the needle in the intern’s hand. 

“Sempai!” Tetsu spoke at the exact moment that Ban disappeared from behind Hoji. Hoji turned around to see Tetsu, minus his jacket, restraining Ban in a practiced hold. His expression was simultaneously amused and reproving, but the amusement was losing. 

“Let me have that.” Hoji took the syringe from the intern and checked it. He’d had to learn basic first aid as a Deka, but he’d also gone a few steps farther. 

“Calm down, sempai.” Tetsu had moved Ban back across the room without losing his hold. Considering how wildly Ban was struggling, it was quite an achievement. 

“But –” Ban protested. He turned too-bright eyes on Hoji, apparently unaware that Hoji was holding the very object he’d been trying to escape. “Partner?” 

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call me partner?” Hoji used Ban’s very brief moment of distraction to inject the contents of the syringe. The sooner Ban was back on his feet, the better. 

Ban stiffened, giving Hoji a not-quite-focused glare of indignant injury before sprawling across the bed. The nurses scurried forward, resetting the various pieces of equipment that Ban had knocked over and coaxing Ban himself back under the blankets. 

“Hi, Ban!” Umeko popped up behind Hoji just as he moved to return the syringe to the intern. She grinned sheepishly at the where-the-hell-were-you glare Hoji directed at her. “Someone had to guard the door,” she pointed out under the sound of Sen and Jasmine offering greetings. 

After a few minutes, it was clear that some of the contents of the syringe, at least, had been a fairly strong sedative, and that Ban was pretty much oblivious to his surroundings. Hoji wondered if that was in part to keep Ban from causing trouble. It probably was. Ban had a definite talent for it. 

Tetsu caught him as he filed out behind the others. “Hoji-sempai.” 

“What?” Hoji had managed to push his previous non-conversation with Tetsu to the back of his mind, but now it and everything associated with it rushed to the fore. Tetsu pointed towards a sink and a bar of anti-bacterial soap in the corner of the room, and a current of disappointment rose. Hoji shoved it back down. “What?” he repeated. 

“Sempai is probably contagious. You should wash your hands,” Tetsu explained. He was scrubbing his own arms up to the elbow, which Hoji privately thought was overkill. “And maybe change, but I don’t think you need to worry that much.” Hands and arms clean, he retrieved his jacket and slipped it back on. 

“Thanks,” Hoji said, and picked up the soap. Aware of Tetsu watching him, he deliberately took as much time as he could, but the other man didn’t leave. Tetsu held out a fresh towel when he finally turned off the water. “Tetsu,” Hoji started, reaching out. He intended to ask what was going on one more time. He didn’t quite get the chance. 

At the light touch of Hoji’s fingers brushing across his, Tetsu’s entire expression changed. The careful veneer of nonchalance crumbled, revealing something almost like desperation. Hoji had barely registered it before Tetsu surged forward and pressed his lips to Hoji’s in an urgent kiss. Stunned, Hoji couldn’t respond. Tetsu pulled back, shame radiating off him in waves. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, and turned to flee. 

__

_Continuity_

If Hoji believed in hell, he would have envisioned it as an eternity of waiting. Neither he nor any of the others could do anything except rail at their inability to act. For a while, he was oblivious to anything other than himself and his bloodstained hands clenched uselessly between his knees. Blackish red flecks flaked off every time he moved his fingers. Without thinking about it, he kept his hands as still as he could and his mind utterly blank. 

Eventually, though, other sounds impinged on his awareness. He looked up to see Jasmine hovering over him. “Are you all right?” 

Hoji forced back the totally inappropriate bark of laughter that threatened to burst out in response. Of course he wasn’t all right. Tetsu lay dying or dead, surrounded by uncaring medical personnel, and nobody knew the truth about the two of them. Honesty forced Hoji to admit that even he himself couldn’t have said what exactly that truth was. And the worst of it was, he hadn’t been able to help, hadn’t been able to prevent Tetsu’s injury. Guilt welled up, and because it masked his uncertainties, he let it. A sort of twisted solace lay in the little internal voice that was always with him; it whispered that as a pro he should have been able to do something, stop it all from happening. At least this was familiar. 

“Hoji?” Jasmine was still looking at him, her expression becoming more concerned. 

“It’s nothing.” It had no effect; she was still giving him a compassionate look, and she opened her mouth to speak again. Hoji cut her off. “I’m fine, all right? Leave me alone!” A shocked silence followed his words, and Hoji realized that he’d been shouting. “I...” He couldn’t handle his teammates’ scrutiny, not now, not when he was so much on edge. Trying to regain control over himself, Hoji turned and walked away. A temporary sanctuary lay in the nearest restroom, with the door locked from the inside. He hadn’t been followed, and he couldn’t decide if that irked him or if it was a relief. 

How had it happened? When had Tetsu gotten so close to him that the mere possibility that he might be gone hurt so much? His reflection stared at him, shadowed eyes above a mouth taut with pain. “What the hell do you know,” he muttered, and bent to scrub his hands clean. It didn’t help. The skin was still tight, still echoed by the purely emotional pressure across his chest. Regret mixed with the guilt, bitter against the back of his tongue, but there was no going back now. 

The light above the door clicked off just as Hoji made it back to his teammates. He stared at it for a moment, uncomprehending, and then the door opened. 

“How is he?” Umeko had abandoned Sen to push to the foreground, beating Ban there by a fraction of a second. “Is he okay?” The rest of the team rushed forward, leaving Hoji behind. 

The doctor held up his hands in a placating gesture. “He should be fine. Barring any complications…” 

“Can I – can we see him?” Hoji interrupted, no longer listening. Tetsu was going to be all right. That was what mattered, right? 

With a slightly irritated air at the interruption, the doctor nodded. “There are a few things, first.” 

Hoji slipped through the half-open doorway a little later. A nurse hovered just behind him, watching without intruding. Each of them would be allowed to visit, for five minutes, no more, and that only if they could be very quiet. At the question of order, Ban had given him another oddly penetrating look and told him to go first. 

“Tetsu.” Several of Tetsu’s ribs had been broken and one of his lungs punctured by the jagged edges. He was incredibly lucky in that he’d suffered no further internal injuries, but he’d lost a serious amount of blood from external lacerations. It would take him several weeks at least to heal. Hoji suspected that Tetsu would prove to be no better a patient than Ban, though. He therefore fully intended to ensure Tetsu’s absolute cooperation with the medical staff. 

White hospital blankets covered most of Tetsu’s body and hid the damage the alienizer had caused. One hand rested on top, an IV attached. Except for that, and for the breathing aids, Tetsu looked closer to normal than Hoji would have expected. At the sound of Hoji’s voice, he stirred. “Sempai?” 

“Hey there.” The thought that Tetsu hadn’t been speaking to Ban earlier after all brushed irrelevantly though Hoji’s mind. Trying to ignore it, he asked the first question that came to mind, ludicrous as it was. “How are you feeling?” 

Tetsu smiled, eyes sliding shut. “Fine,” he murmured vaguely. He wouldn’t feel the pain unless he woke properly, which meant that now he was just drifting. At least he would live. Hoji crouched next to the bed. There was no answering pressure when he squeezed Tetsu’s hand; Tetsu had slipped back into sleep. Hoji stared down at his peaceful face, relief mingled with a sense of disappointment. The tightness in his hands and heart remained. 

__

_Comprehension_

Hoji caught Tetsu before he could run. “So that _is_ what this was about,” he said, more to himself than to Tetsu. Everything suddenly made sense. Tetsu tried to pull away, but his efforts were half-hearted. Hoji retained his grip, asking the most obvious question first. “Why didn’t you just tell me?” 

“You said it before,” Tetsu muttered without meeting Hoji’s eyes. “We can’t be distracted. We don’t have time for things like this.” 

Hoji thought about reminding him that he had also said for Tetsu to tell him what was wrong. “I would have appreciated it if you’d told me,” he said instead. 

“So you could just laugh and tell me to get lost?” Tetsu said bitterly. 

“I wouldn’t have laughed,” Hoji retorted, stung. No matter what, he always treated his teammates with respect. 

Tetsu still refused to look at him. “Please let me go, Hoji-sempai.” 

“Is that what you really want?” Hoji wasn’t sure if it was what _he_ wanted or not, but he knew that if he let Tetsu go now, nothing would ever be resolved. 

Tetsu hesitated. 

“Is it?” Hoji pressed. 

Tetsu finally turned his eyes on Hoji. “No,” he said almost inaudibly. 

For once in his life, Hoji had no idea what to do. He let go of Tetsu’s wrist and opened his mouth to speak, but the words refused to come. 

Tetsu smiled sadly. “I thought so,” he said, voice still almost too low to hear. “We really don’t have time for distractions. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t help it, and we’re both men, and that’s… I won’t let this affect my work, sempai, so please don’t tell anyone. I won’t do anything like this again, I promi –” he broke off with an undignified squeak. 

Hoji had done the only thing he could think of to make Tetsu stop talking – caught his mouth with a kiss. It took Tetsu a moment to respond, but he more than made up for his hesitation with enthusiasm. 

“Oh,” he said weakly when Hoji finally pulled away. “You, um…” 

“Tetsu.” Hoji took the other man by the shoulders and looked at him earnestly, willing him to understand. He had felt a kind of affinity to the other man since they had begun working together, an admiration of his accomplishments and dedication, but this was completely different. He thought he’d learned all he needed to from Vino so long ago, and yet there was a void that nothing seemed to fill. Hard as he had tried to ignore its existence, it tugged at him now. Even so... 

“No distractions.” At Tetsu’s blank look, he tried to explain further. No matter how he might feel personally, he couldn’t let anything compromise his work; it was too important, both to him and to the people it involved. Anything else had to come second. “If we do this, it doesn’t affect our work.” He wasn’t sure if Tetsu really got it or not, but Tetsu nodded. 

“I understand.” 

__

_Resolution_

“I apologize for all the trouble I’ve caused.” Somehow Tetsu managed to convey the impression that the only discomfort he felt was at not being able to perform his duties properly, despite speaking from a mostly prone position because of his injuries. 

“Nonsense,” four voices chorused back. Tetsu’s expression became distinctly sheepish at their reaction. Doggie, in theory on the receiving end of the apology, simply looked resigned at his team’s irreverence. 

In the three days since the fight with Kresoar, Tetsu’s recovery had progressed rapidly. Despite that, it would be several weeks yet before he would be able to return to his duties. Hoji meant to make sure that there would be no reason for him to even think about trying to transform earlier than that. On that score, at least, he was completely sure. He’d done enough damage already, by not stopping Kresoar from hurting a teammate so badly. He’d avoided seeing Tetsu without at least one other team member present for most of those three days; he told himself that he was giving Tetsu a chance to adjust a little. He pushed away the thought that he didn’t quite know what to say, or how to say it. 

Negotiation wasn’t one of Hoji’s skills, and unlike weapons training, he had no idea how to start learning. He wasn’t sure if trying to define a relationship fell under ‘negotiation’, but it was the closest thing he could think of. For that matter, he wasn’t even sure that he really wanted any attempt at definition, and only the still-raw memory of the fight and its aftermath kept him even considering the idea. 

Instead, Hoji watched from the sidelines as Tetsu unsuccessfully tried to convince Doggie that he was at least capable of doing paperwork or computer-based research. Tetsu appeared to be sincerely disappointed at the refusal, but a simple conversation was clearly still tiring for him. The nurse in charge of visitation noticed as well, for she started clearing them out. 

“Um,” Tetsu said hesitantly as the six started filing out of the room. Hoji, despite his surreptitious efforts otherwise, had ended up last in the line to leave, and when Tetsu spoke, the nurse was the only other person present. “Can I speak with Hoji for a moment?” 

“I shouldn’t – “ Hoji began at the same time as the nurse said “But –” 

“Please.” Tetsu’s voice shook slightly, and Hoji made the mistake of looking directly at him. He had the same expression that he’d had just after Kresoar had hurt him, the look that said Hoji was the only thing keeping him from being swept away. Hoji hadn’t been able – hadn’t wanted – to look away then, and he couldn’t now. “Alone,” Tetsu added. 

“It won’t take long,” Hoji said, resigning himself to the inevitable. The nurse barely paused before nodding; given how stubborn Tetsu could be, Hoji wasn’t surprised. “What?” he asked as soon as the door closed behind her, and then winced internally. He hadn’t meant to sound quite so rough. 

Tetsu wasn’t looking at him any more; he was staring at the far wall. “I… I wanted to say I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry?” Hoji repeated, completely confused. Yet again, Tetsu had turned all of his expectations upside-down and besides, Tetsu hadn’t done anything wrong. “Sorry for what?” 

“For screwing up.” Tetsu looked miserable, his mask of calm gone. “I let myself get distracted, and… You said we can’t let us interfere with our work, and I did, and I’m sorry, and maybe we shouldn’t… We shouldn’t…” He broke off and turned his face away, drawing in on himself as if he were trying to disappear. 

Hoji stared. His first thought was that it was completely unfair for Tetsu to try to break off their relationship – such as it was – before Hoji could get him to explain what, exactly, Hoji meant to him. His second was that for Tetsu to feel he had to take the blame was completely absurd; if anything, Hoji should have known more about the Vasa-seijin and its capabilities before going out to deal with it. If they were going to discuss matters of fault, he was the one who should be apologizing. 

“But it wasn’t your fault.” He didn’t know he’d spoken aloud until he saw Tetsu react. 

Tetsu had shifted positions again and was looking at him with complete bewilderment. “You’re not mad at me?” he asked finally, sounding almost like a small child in need of reassurance. 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Hoji repeated firmly. “I take full responsibility.” It was the more familiar path; he was the tactical leader, and it was his duty to ensure the safety of his team. It was certainly much easier than trying to pin down Tetsu’s emotions when he could barely figure out his own. 

Suddenly the air of calm was back, overlaid with relief. “Sempai, that’s nonsense.” 

“What?” It seemed Tetsu was determined to keep him on his toes, this time using an abrupt dismissal of both SPD procedure and Hoji’s guilt. 

“You can’t be responsible for everything.” Tetsu yawned, and Hoji realized that he hadn’t calmed down so much as exhausted all his energy. “Was because I didn’t pay attention t’the alienizer.” 

Hoji regarded him for a moment. He would get nothing further out of Tetsu tonight; he supposed he didn’t matter much. They had time. “We’ll talk later, okay?” 

“Mm,” Tetsu assented. Hoji waited for a moment, but Tetsu didn’t say anything else. Since no one was looking, he brushed the hair out of Tetsu’s closed eyes and readjusted the blankets before leaving. Just as he reached the door, Tetsu spoke. “Hoji?” Again, he sounded much younger than he was, a child on the edge of sleep. 

“Yeah?” Hoji said over his shoulder. 

“Stay?” 

Surprised, Hoji turned back. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, and he was surprised to find that he meant it. Despite his reservations, he didn’t really want to lose Tetsu; the other man had taken the emptiness he’d felt and somehow transmuted it. The future might be uncertain, but the present belonged to them, and Hoji would make the most of it. 

The smile Tetsu offered was brief, vanishing in another yawn, but the contentment in his face remained. “Then… I guess it’s okay… if they know… about us.” The last few words were barely more than a whisper. Hoji blinked, but Tetsu really had fallen asleep this time. He sighed and settled into the bedside chair. Tetsu had offered a definition after all. Sometimes, making the most of the present wasn’t as hard as it looked. 

__

_Epilogue_

“I should go.” Tetsu’s voice came softly through the dark, but he made no move to get up. “It’s almost time for –” 

“You could stay,” Hoji interrupted. He wanted to pull Tetsu closer, tighten his grip on the other man, but he’d made that mistake once already. 

“They would notice,” Tetsu reminded him. He shifted, moving away from Hoji. “I don’t want…” He trailed off, but Hoji knew what he would have said. _I don’t want them to know_. He wasn’t referring to just their teammates; he didn’t want anyone knowing about their relationship. It was a conversation they’d had before. 

“Would that be so bad?” Hoji asked after a moment. “If they knew,” he added. It was the first time since the beginning that he’d asked. 

Tetsu stiffened. “You have your boundaries, Hoji-sempai. I have mine.” He slid out from beneath the sheets, and Hoji could hear him pulling on his clothes. Silence fell a few seconds later. 

“Tetsu?” He couldn’t see well enough to know if Tetsu was still there or not, and Tetsu was more than capable of moving too quietly to hear. There was no answer at first, and Hoji resolutely turned his thoughts to the still-open case – a Vasa-seijin – of the day before. The voice seemingly coming out of nowhere startled him. 

“I’m sorry.” Tetsu leaned over and caught his chin, tilting his face upwards. “It’s just that this is the way it has to be.” He blocked any further protest Hoji might have made with a thorough kiss. “I have to be strong,” he whispered so quietly that Hoji didn’t think he had been meant to hear it. 

_Strong?_

Hoji almost called him back to ask what he meant. He hesitated, remembering what Tetsu had said about boundaries. Tetsu never spoke or acted casually, and he had his reasons for everything he did. But before Hoji could say anything, Tetsu was gone. 

+end+


End file.
